Ryze had been praised by nearly every professor since the beginning of the term, but even someone like him wasn't skilled at absolutely everything.
For the first-year students, the most anticipated class during these two weeks was undoubtedly Thursday's Flying lesson.
In the morning, the class would be shared by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. In the afternoon, Gryffindor and Slytherin would have their turn. It was the day when the first-year students from all four houses would finally experience their first official Flying Class.
Since the night before, Ryze's roommates had been discussing their flying experiences with great enthusiasm.
Michael claimed that his parents had introduced him to flying broomsticks when he was only eight years old. According to him, the first time he rose a few feet into the air had been unforgettable.
Terry, on the other hand, seemed confident that he might one day become a Beater for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He spoke proudly about his strong arms and quick reactions, insisting that he was perfectly suited for the position.
Anthony had an even more impressive story.
"My uncle gave me a Cleansweep Seven last year," he said proudly. "It's one of the fastest broomsticks around. Unfortunately, first-year students aren't allowed to bring their own broomsticks to school, so it's sitting at home collecting dust."
The others immediately showed envy at this revelation.
Compared to his roommates' lively experiences, Ryze's own knowledge of broomsticks was rather limited.
"I've only watched a British Quidditch League match once," Ryze admitted calmly. "That was during the summer. My brother-in-law and my cousin took me to see it."
The others immediately leaned closer, curious.
"Nymphadora recommended a book to me," Ryze continued. "Quidditch Through the Ages. She said that if I finished reading it, I would understand the charm of Quidditch."
He paused before shrugging slightly.
"But to be honest… I think I'm probably not very suited for broomsticks. If I perform badly in class later, please remember to keep an eye on me."
Ryze wasn't joking.
In truth, he really was unfamiliar with riding anything resembling a broomstick.
In his previous life, he had developed a slight psychological fear of bicycles after taking a painful fall when he was young. The memory had left a lingering impression on him.
Later, as an adult, he had never attempted to ride a motorcycle either. He always considered them unnecessarily dangerous.
Although the lingering fear from his childhood had mostly faded after experiencing actual death and rebirth, Ryze still hadn't actively tried riding bicycles very often in this life.
Naturally, his interest in broomsticks wasn't particularly high.
If he truly had to choose, Ryze felt that he might actually share more interests with Ron's father.
Arthur Weasley's fascination with magical modifications—like tinkering with flying cars—sounded far more appealing than balancing on a narrow stick hundreds of feet in the air.
Fortunately, Flying Class was only mandatory for first-year students.
Ryze didn't expect to achieve an outstanding grade in the subject. As long as he could pass without embarrassing himself, that would already count as success.
Hearing such uncharacteristically unconfident words from Ryze surprised his three roommates.
After all, during the past two weeks, Ryze had demonstrated extraordinary talent in almost every subject.
Now, for the first time, he sounded unsure.
Michael immediately patted his chest.
"Don't worry! We'll teach you how to ride a broomstick properly once we get to class."
Terry nodded eagerly.
"Yeah! It's actually pretty easy once you get used to it."
Anthony also joined in.
"You'll get the hang of it quickly. We'll help you."
However, despite their reassurance, Ryze wasn't actually the most nervous person about the upcoming Flying lesson.
His mindset remained quite calm.
The most nervous people, surprisingly, were Neville and Hermione.
At breakfast in the Great Hall, Hermione was clutching a book tightly in her hands, muttering nonstop as she reviewed broomstick safety precautions and flying techniques.
Beside her sat Neville.
He listened attentively as Hermione read aloud, nodding repeatedly as if trying to memorize every word.
The scene looked so serious that it almost resembled exam preparation.
Unfortunately for them, the nearby Slytherin students found it highly amusing.
Quiet laughter occasionally erupted from their table.
Draco Malfoy, however, seemed to notice that Ryze was sitting very close to Neville.
His expression instantly darkened.
He whispered something to the other Slytherin students around him, but interestingly enough, he didn't dare approach Ryze directly.
After all, Ryze's peculiar identity as his "cousin-uncle" still weighed heavily on his mind.
When class time arrived, the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students followed the instructions posted in their common rooms and walked outside the Hogwarts gates toward the flying practice grounds.
The wide grass field stretched under the open sky.
Dozens of old flying broomsticks were laid neatly in rows on the ground, waiting for the students.
Madam Hooch stood nearby, her sharp yellow eyes surveying the group with strict vigilance.
Once everyone had arrived, she ordered them to stand beside a broomstick.
"Right," she said briskly. "Everyone stand next to a broom. Stick your right hand over it and say 'Up!'"
The students quickly began following her instructions.
One by one, broomsticks leapt obediently into their owners' hands.
Some rose immediately.
Others rolled around on the ground before finally jumping up.
This was the first time since arriving at Hogwarts that Ryze was repeatedly corrected by a teacher during class.
"Grip it tighter."
"No, not like that."
"Keep your balance."
Madam Hooch pointed out several mistakes in his posture.
Ryze obediently stepped aside and practiced the basic mounting movements again and again until he managed to meet the standard.
Aside from that, nothing unexpected happened during the rest of the lesson.
For two full class periods, the students cautiously practiced flying at extremely low altitudes—only one or two meters above the ground—and moved at little more than walking speed.
There were no show-offs among the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students.
Anyone who even looked like they were preparing to attempt something flashy was immediately met with the sharp blast of Madam Hooch's whistle.
The warning was unmistakable.
Meanwhile, Ryze spent the entire time floating about a meter above the ground, moving at what could only be described as a snail's pace.
Slow.
Extremely slow.
So slow, in fact, that Madam Hooch never once blew her whistle at him.
By the time the class ended, she even walked past and offered a bit of encouragement.
"Good control," she said. "Next time, you can try going a little faster."
After class ended, the four Ravenclaw boys gathered together again.
Michael stared at Ryze in disbelief.
"I feel like Madam Hooch must have never seen someone ride a broomstick this steadily before."
He shook his head in amazement.
"Two entire periods, Ryze. You stayed barely a meter above the ground the whole time and just drifted around slowly. Didn't you feel any urge to fly higher?"
Ryze shook his head calmly.
"Of course I want to fly."
He paused briefly before adding:
"I just don't particularly want to ride a broomstick."
As he spoke, another thought quietly formed in his mind.
Why was it that only Lord Voldemort managed to develop a true flying ability through Dark Magic?
The Wizarding World clearly possessed many flying tools.
Broomsticks.
Flying carpets.
Even enchanted vehicles.
There were also levitation spells like Wingardium Leviosa.
However, these spells only worked on objects.
Very few wizards could truly fly on their own without relying on external tools.
If he ever had the chance, Ryze thought, he would prefer to research a proper Flying Charm himself.
The method used by Voldemort—surrounded by thick, pitch-black smoke—looked far too sinister.
Not exactly a pleasant sight.
Seeing that Ryze genuinely lacked interest in broomsticks, his roommates eventually stopped trying to convince him.
At the same time, they all felt a subtle sense of relief.
After more than ten days since the beginning of the school term, they had finally discovered something Ryze wasn't particularly good at.
Even if his "not good at" was still roughly the level of an average wizard.
But Ryze's astonishing academic performance over the past two weeks—earning points in nearly every subject except Potions—had unintentionally raised everyone's expectations of him.
It almost felt unnatural to see him struggle with something.
Since there were no classes scheduled for the afternoon, Ryze made a suggestion.
"Why don't we go to the Room of Requirement and practice?"
His roommates immediately agreed.
After all, ever since the weekend, their schedules had been packed with daily lessons. They hadn't had the opportunity to visit the Room of Requirement again.
Now that Ryze had brought it up, no one had any objections.
The group quickly finished their meal and headed toward the highest floor of Hogwarts Castle.
Soon, they arrived once again at the quiet and neglected corridor.
As they walked past the staircase corner, Anthony enthusiastically tried greeting the portrait of Sir Cadogan.
Unfortunately, the knight seemed completely absorbed in one of his imaginary battles.
Inside the painting, he was charging across a distant rice field while shouting heroic challenges.
He paid absolutely no attention to the outside world.
Terry shook his head.
"Professor Babbling was right," he said. "Sir Cadogan definitely has some mental problems."
Ryze simply smiled faintly.
Soon they reached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls how to dance ballet.
Standing before the wall, Ryze focused on his thoughts.
He silently wished for a place where they could practice magic safely.
After pacing past the tapestry several times, a familiar change occurred.
A door appeared.
But this time, it was different.
"Wow!"
Anthony rushed forward excitedly.
"It's a bronze door this time! That looks so cool!"
He eagerly pushed it open.
Inside was a large classroom illuminated by rows of torches mounted on the walls.
Several large cushions were scattered across the floor.
On the left side of the room stood multiple layers of bookshelves.
On the right side were various magical tools and miscellaneous items.
Anthony's eyes widened the moment he saw the shelves.
"Look at this!"
He ran over immediately and began examining the titles.
"Standard Spells and Counter-Spells."
"A Collection of Defensive Spells."
"The Laws of Dueling."
"There must be at least a hundred books here!"
He grabbed one from the shelf and flipped it open.
"Merlin's beard! This one even has detailed notes written inside!"
Terry walked over, equally amazed.
"These books alone are probably enough to keep us studying for several years."
The others could only nod in agreement.
The Room of Requirement had once again provided them with something extraordinary.
And for young wizards eager to learn, it might very well become the most valuable classroom in all of Hogwarts.
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